


can’t get his scent off of me

by glazers



Series: the less i know [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Angry Sex, Arguments, Breaking Up & Making Up, Facials, M/M, Slight Possessiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 16:47:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17104367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glazers/pseuds/glazers
Summary: newlyweds kim jongin and kim minseok are almost too different to make matrimony work. almost.





	can’t get his scent off of me

**Author's Note:**

> yeah. xuikai nation.... rise...

jongin can count on both hands the amount of months he’s known minseok and the amount he’s lived with him. it’d been odd, at first. the system was almost always correct, but jongin knew of couples that weren’t assigned by the system and still made it work. he sometimes wonders if that could be him.

 

minseok wasn’t bad. they were just very different. minseok liked doing things a certain way while jongin could hardly care for it. they’d even tried going to counseling, couples counseling to be exact, but whenever they’d step out of the office, they’d be back at square one.

 

they tried different things. compromise, jongin had heard it from his mother, was very important in a marriage. in their society that’s what marriage stood next to; compromise. marriage is hard fucking work, but it’s worse when neither party tries hard enough.

 

so, jongin tries, tries to make minseok happy, tries to clean up after himself, tries to not stay up too late doing work because he knows minseok hates that. tries to eat better, cuts out meat because it makes him sick and minseok thinks he’ll feel better once he stops eating it. tries and tries and tries, but it doesn’t ever seem to be enough.

 

minseok does the same. he tries not to be so harsh on jongin, makes food for him when he’s working in his office in the afternoons. buys his favorite cookies, cuddles him even though it’s awkward.

 

they do try, but jongin just doesn’t think it’ll work. he promises himself that if he doesn’t feel better in their relationship soon that he’ll leave. leave minseok and their small apartment.

 

minseok’s friend group is one that jongin is incredibly comfortable with. jongin notes that minseok is the sourpuss of the group, sees how baekhyun is with his husband and how well they get along. he sees how affectionate they are and feels estranged by minseok, who won’t even touch him in public, much less when they’re alone.

 

jongin thinks minseok is very detached emotionally, very out there instead of right here. he hates him for it, wants to shake him and tell him to display an emotion, blink or laugh or smile. jongin sometimes thinks minseok is sleeping with someone else. it’s not uncommon, infidelity that is. even in marriages that aren’t curated by the system, there’s worries of infidelity. jongin loses sleep over it, gets angry just thinking about it. he and minseok may not be two happy peas in a pod, but that was his husband and his only.

 

it had been jongin’s sister who said jealousy wasn’t a pretty color on him, said that he had no right to be jealous or worried if minseok was cheating on him or not. jongin didn’t think she could speak much, anyway. she didn’t know minseok at all. jongin didn’t either, but he knew small pieces of him, had created this version of minseok in his head.

 

jongin stays up late one saturday doing paperwork for his boss’s next case when minseok wakes up suddenly. his face is chubby from sleep, eyes almost completely shut. “come to bed already.”

 

“okay. give me a minute.” jongin says, hurries to finish the file he’s on and then sets it down. his office is near their bedroom, thankfully, so he walks with a very sleepy minseok in front of him. “did you have a bad dream?”

 

“yes.” minseok responds, slides into his side of the bed and closes his eyes. jongin chews on his lip and watches as minseok quickly drifts to sleep again. never once asking jongin to hold him, to talk to him to help forget the bad dream. jongin wants to scream and cry at the same time.

 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

 

going on six months of knowing each other and two of living together, jongin starts brainstorming what to buy minseok for his birthday. he’d stated very early in the relationship that he hated surprises and preferred to know what he was getting beforehand. “i don’t want either of us to be disappointed.” he had said. jongin wanted to hit him really hard sometimes.

 

sometimes when they’re having dinner, jongin will space out and think of what his life would be like if he hadn’t been paired with minseok, how different he would be as a person. a lot happier, maybe. and he wants to leave, doesn’t want to have to try so hard all the time to get some sort of spark from minseok. he must hate him, minseok must hate jongin. he acts differently around friends, laughs and jokes around when his friends are present but he’s stone cold when it’s just him and jongin.

 

 _what_ _isn’t_ _enough_? what _more_ _can_ _i_ _do?_

 

“jongin? you okay?” minseok’s voice comes. jongin blinks, realizing his mouth is full with half chewed rice. he hums, nods and looks down at his plate. they rarely speak while they eat, minseok never being really that superb at smalltalk.

 

“are you doing any work tonight?” minseok asks while he washes the dishes. jongin shakes his head, says he’s  all caught up and has the next week free. “we’re all going out on saturday. baekhyun’s treat at some nightclub.”

 

“hm.” jongin hums. “okay. that sounds fine.”

 

“you can come, if you’d like.”

 

jongin fucking hates this. “sure.”

 

minseok, that night, is oddly touchy. he helps jongin apply lotion all over his body after his cold shower and dries his hair for him. if it were anyone different, jongin would have swooned from the attention. jongin watches as minseok undresses with the bathroom door wide open. he’s been getting chubbier these past few weeks. his hips are wider and his face is softer. jongin wants to pinch his skin between his fingers. he watches when minseok steps into the shower and shuts the curtain, making brief eye contact with him.

 

jongin, angry and brave as ever, waits until he’s out of the shower and half dressed to crowd him against the dresser. minseok doesn’t like being thrown around, doesn’t like being pushed and told what to do, so jongin even trying to do anything close to that seems to enrage him. he shoves at jongin’s chest, brows furrowed in confusion. jongin grabs his wrists and tries to pull him closer, tries to kiss him, even.

 

you’d think that sex would help, that having some weird sexual attraction would make the relationship stronger, would help both parties have feelings for each other, but it doesn’t. they’ve fucked all of twice — this being their third attempt — since their wedding night. jongin had gone willingly the first night, didn’t really tell minseok where he liked to be touched or where his sweet spots were. minseok had to find them on his own that night while he fucked him into their mattress.

 

the second time was during a fight, when jongin had gotten home so late that minseok felt annoyed with him for not calling, said it was important to inform people about those sorts of things. jongin blew him off, said he’d been too busy, too caught up in work to worry about any of that. minseok called him childish, irresponsible, a child. and naturally, jongin barked back, said something along the lines of i hate being married to a frigid man like you. minseok looked on the verge of tears but he was overcome with anger, naturally, had shoved at jongin’s chest with his cheeks wet until jongin had kissed him, angry and annoyed. an outlet, jongin thought, was being even allowed to even make minseok bend. he didn’t do so quickly, had spat and hissed at jongin before he’d stepped back, raised both hands as if to show he was done and said, “you want an angry fuck? you’ll get one, but not if you don’t want it.”

 

and minseok had wanted it, had scoffed and shoved jongin on to the couch and prepped himself above his lap while he watched, not touching or trying to. minseok was so angry, had even began to cry when he had three fingers inside of himself. jongin felt a little guilty, felt bad for being so careless and mean with his words. he was even going to apologize when minseok just lowered himself on his cock unexpectedly. the apology and regret died on his mouth. minseok was a bit smaller than jongin, frame much more narrow. jongin held his hips, letting minseok set his own pace, heard him crying still, hurt still. jongin grabbed his chin and pulled him down to kiss down, tried to apologize, throat suddenly tight. jongin can still remember how long they fucked that night and how many times. how minseok had stopped crying after the first round, had let jongin shove his fingers in his mouth when they fucked on the floor, let jongin bend him over the couch to eat him out till he was sobbing and pushing him away.

 

jongin fucking hates this.

 

“what?” minseok hisses, now, the preamble of their third time of vigorous hate fucking. jongin doesn’t reply, tries to pull him towards the bed but lets him go when minseok doesn’t budge. “i said, _what_?”

 

jongin sits on the edge of their bed and spreads his legs, annoyed. he leans back on his hands and doesn’t answer, tries to say it with a glimmer in his eye. “last time you put that thing in me it nearly split me in half.”

 

“you didn’t prep enough.”

 

minseok looks toward the clock on the wall and stays silent for a while, nodding to himself once before grabbing the lube from the dresser. it was full, mostly. this rarely happens. jongin lays back as minseok quickly undresses. up close, he can see the pounds he’s gained, the softness of his stomach. jongin really wishes things were different between them. minseok seems to notice jongin’s staring and frowns. “why are you upset, now?”

 

“nothing.” minseok says, one finger already inside. he was soft, nowhere near even semi-hard. jongin reaches and smooths a hand over minseok’s stomach. minseok gasps, twitches away, embarrassed probably. “stop.”

 

“i’m not doing anything.” jongin replies, his fingers digging into the flesh of minseok’s hips. “get on top.”

 

minseok crawls over and hovers over jongin’s crotch, still prepping himself, still completely silent. jongin touches the inside of his thighs with his fingertips, amused by the way minseok shakes from it, how his cock twitches with vague interest. jongin can’t tell how many fingers he has in, but he reaches behind, pushes one of his own alongside minseok’s tiny fingers. “fuck.” minseok hisses, face pinching in what looks like pain. jongin watches him, watches his facial expressions when jongin’s finger prods around.

 

“prepped enough?”

 

“no. shut up.” minseok breathes. he sounds affected, strung out before jongin’s even inside of him yet. “take your finger out. i’ll cum.”

 

jongin listens, strokes himself while he waits.

 

it’s very detached, this odd combination they have. the angry fucking, the resistance when it comes to touching or looking for a second longer. jongin, like last time, let’s minseok set his own pace. “you’re big.” he says, but jongin can’t decipher his tone. “it hurts.”

 

“get off, then.” jongin really, really doesn’t want him to, but minseok does. he winces, his thighs shaking even though he hardly rode him. jongin gets up to go into the bathroom when minseok stops him, asks where he’s going. “shower.”

 

before he can answer, jongin gets in the shower and has the least pleasing orgasm he’s had since he was fifteen.

 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

 

saturday night comes even though jongin tries to will it away. he and minseok are in a weird place now, having had an argument earlier that day about dirty dishes. jongin tries to play up an act when they get to the nightclub, tries to laugh and chime in on the conversation but he just wants to go home.

 

minseok disappears to the bar halfway through the night. he couldn’t drink anyway since he had a seminar in the morning with one of the english department chairs. jongin didn’t want to drink, oddly enough.

 

he spots minseok before he spots the guy eyeing him. jongin’s not stupid. he knows minseok has a strong aura around him and how attractive that face of his is. jongin watches from the booth as the guy approaches minseok, tries to spark a conversation. minseok doesn’t look intrigued, nods along as the guy speaks and then stops him, brings his left hand up to his face. jongin feels some weird form of pride swell in his chest as minseok’s mouth moves around the vowel of married. jongin wants to scream. the guy backs off, then, surprisingly. minseok comes back to the booth with two sodas, one for jongin and himself.

 

“what was that guy asking you?” jongin says, tries not to speak too loud over the music. minseok shrugs. “what’d you say to him?”

 

“that i was married.” minseok says. “i said, i wasn’t interested and that i was married.”

 

“oh.”

 

minseok doesn’t speak for another minute. “i wouldn’t cheat on you.”

 

jongin nods, says he knows. it’s a bit of a relief to hear it from his mouth, to visually see minseok reject a man in front of him.

 

“we should head out soon.” jongin says, instead. minseok looks tired, anyway, and figures leaving early will benefit him more for the next morning. “if you want.”

 

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom first.” minseok announces and gets up, leaves jongin alone in the booth. most of their friends are dancing or drinking at the bar, but like jongin said earlier, minseok was the sourpuss of his friend group. jongin waits and waits until minseok appears again, his eyes a little glassy and shiny — the same way they looked when he was done crying. minseok nods once and jongin gets up, looks around the club for baekhyun but when they can’t find him, minseok says they should just go.

 

jongin drives, turning on the heater when minseok starts shivering. it’s oddly cold for it being midmarch. minseok curls up in the passenger seat and sways to the music on the radio.

 

there’s still dirty dishes in the sink. jongin had refused to clean them earlier, had received a lecture from minseok for doing so. “i’ll do the dishes.” jongin finally says, figures he could try to lighten the heaviness hanging between them. minseok blinks at him, nods, says he’s going to shower and head to bed.

 

jongin spends some time in the kitchen after he’s done cleaning up. he stands and stares at the picture of minseok’s niece on the fridge, of minseok’s parents wedding photo from when they were young. then jongin and minseok’s wedding picture on the shelf. he stares, tries to see if the jongin in the frame will blink back at him.

 

they looked good that night, jongin remembers. he remembered posing for pictures and catching himself staring at minseok when the photographer would ask them to move an inch.

 

jongin turns off the lights and goes into their shared bedroom. minseok’s drying his hair with a towel when jongin turns the corner. he’s dressed in briefs and one of jongin’s shirts that absolutely is too big for him. minseok throws the towel on to the chair and crawls into bed, not saying a word to jongin in the process.

 

jongin slips out of his clothes and takes a shower before joining minseok in bed. minseok’s on his phone, scrolling mindlessly while jongin rubs lotion on his aching limbs. so many years of dance had made him permanently sore, especially this time of year. “you don’t think i’d actually cheat on you, right?” comes minseok’s voice. he sounds tired, voice deeper than it normally is. jongin doesn’t answer. “even if—” he pauses, sits up slowly. “even if we don’t… get along so well, we’re still… meant to be together. the system wouldn’t pair anyone up randomly.”

 

“i know that.” jongin replies, drops the lotion on the floor but picks it up when minseok makes a noise that reads, don’t leave that there. jongin stays at the foot of the bed and sighs. “you’d leave me, right? if you didn’t like it. if you felt like we could never work. you’d leave me, right?”

 

“would you?” minseok asks.

 

jongin shrugs. “i’ve thought about it.”

 

“me, too.”

 

“why haven’t you, then, seok?” jongin looks up at him. minseok lifts his shoulders as if to say he doesn’t know.

 

jongin slides into bed next to him and waits a moment before saying, “maybe we should… you know. at least once when we’re not angry.”

 

“okay.” minseok says, stretches to set his phone down on his bedside table before moving closer to jongin. “the first time. our wedding night. i didn’t take advantage of you, did i?”

 

“no.” jongin says. he’s insulted minseok would even think that. “i would have hit you if i didn’t want it.”

 

“that seems to be common with us whenever we have sex.” minseok reaches to the bedside table for the lube.

 

“what? hitting?” jongin frowns. minseok hums. “that’s not a good thing.”

 

“yeah, it isn’t.” minseok sits next to jongin, their elbows touching, practically. jongin can’t see since the sheets are covering it, but minseok’s shimmied out of his briefs and spreads his legs.

 

“before we met,” jongin says, notices minseok’s face is getting more pink the more he fingers himself. “how many people did you fuck?”

 

“not… a lot.” minseok breathes. “i had a girlfriend in college, then a boyfriend. i didn't sleep around a lot.”

 

jongin wants to look, wants to sit in front of minseok and just watch, but he’s too shy to ask. “i only dated guys.” jongin says after a few beats. minseok hums, but minseok knows he’s hardly listening. “how many do you have in you?”

 

“just two.” minseok turns to look at him for a second then decides it’s a bad idea.

 

“let me see.”

 

“you want to see?” minseok repeats, scandalized. when jongin doesn’t say anything, minseok readjusts himself and crawls in front of jongin. his cock, jongin notes, is standing hard and proud against his stomach.

 

“open your legs.” jongin says, grabs one of his ankles to pull him closer. he can see minseok’s resistance when jongin suddenly wants to be closer.

 

minseok lathers his three fingers with lube and starts pushing in, looking away from jongin and instead down at his lap or up at the ceiling. jongin feels odd like this, feels possession swim over him just watching him that way. he thinks back to the guy at the bar, how he probably wishes he could get minseok like this. jongin swallows around a lump in his throat, wanting to reach out and grab his hips, or put his hand around his throat. wants to say that aside from their differences, minseok is his.

 

“if i keep… i’ll cum if i keep going.” minseok croaks, eyes glassy the way they had been at the club, the way they had been when he got upset. jongin takes the lube from beside his hip and asks him to lay down facing the pillows. “what for?”

 

“i don’t want it to hurt this time.”

 

“so?”

 

“my fingers are bigger.” jongin tells him. minseok visibly blushes but listens anyway. his supple thighs shake when he crawls back against the pillows, laying his head on the pillows and arching his butt up slightly. jongin wants to _scream_.

 

jongin pushes minseok’s shirt up over his back and runs his hands down his back. minseok shivers away from it. jongin lifts his hips up softly, trying not to be too rough. his left hand wonders down past his rim and to his balls. he’s soft there, too. jongin wants to ask if he shaves, but he shelves the idea for another time, a moment more appropriate.

 

minseok isn’t loud, but he does whine a lot, twitches away when jongin prods around enough to find the small bundle of nerves. jongin fingers him for what feels like an hour, until minseok catches his wrist and stops him, voice wet when he says, “it’s fine, now.” jongin flips him over on his back and tries to commit the minseok in front of him to memory. face flushed, eyes shiny with brimming tears. want, jongin notes, that’s what his face exudes. want.

 

“do you want this off?” jongin touches the bottom of the shirt he’s wearing.

 

“leave it.” minseok sighs, but lifts it up enough to expose his stomach and half of his chest. jongin does quick work of lathering lube onto himself. doesn’t want it to hurt this time, so he hopes minseok’s not wound up, hopes he’s at least the tiniest bit relaxed. jongin pushes in slowly, huffing in annoyance when minseok clenches around him.

 

a few moments pass before jongin even thinks about moving. he reaches out and grabs minseok’s hips, tries not to grip too hard and fucks him slowly, sweetly the way it’s supposed to be. jongin drops his head on to the pillow next to minseok’s and realizes they haven’t kissed once since this began. “why won’t you take the shirt off?” jongin asks, his lungs tight because minseok feels so good to the point it hurts.

 

“i’m—” he pauses, wraps his legs around jongin’s hips, holds him there. “just… chubbier.”

 

“and?” jongin frowns, stops moving his hips to lift his head. minseok groans in protest. “it’s not bad. you’re softer.”

 

“shut up.” minseok grits out. “i saw you staring that time.”

 

“i wasn’t staring because i thought it was bad or weird.” jongin tells him, “i just noticed.”

 

minseok says fine, whatever. jongin decides to drop the subject, leave it for another time. he fucks minseok at an agonizingly slow pace, fights against the carnal need growing in his gut. “the fucking…” jongin feels drunk, tries to keep his mouth shut, but it slips out. “fucking guy at the bar.”

 

“jongin.” minseok hisses, not like he’s encouraging him to go faster or harder for that matter, but hissing it as a warning. his hand splays over jongin’s jaw, the first time he’s touched him in weeks.

 

“fucker.” jongin breathes. he closes his eyes and lets his face drop on to minseok’s hand. he ducks down and noses his way to the crook of minseok’s neck and stays there. he doesn’t kiss or bite or try to leave a mark, knowing minseok could possibly hate that sort of thing. minseok sighs under him, pushing his hips forward in time to meet jongin’s thrusts that are increasingly becoming more animalistic. “he’s probably at home, alone.”

 

“jongin, shut the fuck up.” minseok hisses again, grips the back of his neck. “shut up. shut the fuck up.”

 

“and i’m here, huh.” jongin smiles against minseok’s collarbone. “fucking you while he’s alone at home.”

 

minseok melts, the vulgarity of jongin’s statement causing a fire to burn in his stomach. “gonna cum.”

 

jongin fucks him harder, his face pinching in pain as he arches away, releases all over his stomach and the shirt. jongin slows down, lets him recover and breathe. “good?” jongin asks. minseok hums, closes his eyes and wiggles his hips to encourage jongin to keep fucking him. “inside?”

 

“yeah.” minseok mumbles, wraps his arms around jongin’s shoulders and holds him. jongin is brutal after that, fucks minseok until he’s whining at him to hurry and cum already. before he can let himself cum, he presses a kiss on to minseok’s mouth and groans, possessiveness settling in his chest when his thighs shake as he cums inside of his husband.

 

jongin presses his forehead to minseok’s and tries to catch his breath. his hand glides over minseok’s cheek and rests on his nape. minseok bares his neck, soft and pliant after what felt like two hours of fucking. jongin wants to say it, wants to bite it into his skin, but he knows minseok will shy away, will push him off, push him out.

 

he settles for, “just for me.” and he repeats it, kisses minseok the way he’s wanted to since the night began. dirty and heady. “just for me.” he says against his teeth, smile creeping up onto his face when minseok nods, says _just_ _for_ _you_.

 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

 

the night before minseok’s birthday, they have another fight. it’s dumb, over something jongin can’t even really remember, but he remembers raising his voice — which he never does — and minseok doing the same back. his neck has bloomed red with how angry he was, said he didn’t need this shit, that he was a grown man and didn’t have to settle living with a kid like jongin.

 

jongin had told him he didn’t have to, that the door was right fucking there and he could leave whenever he wished. so he did, minseok packed a bag and slammed the door shut so loud that jongin had a headache for the next two hours.

 

panic doesn’t really settle in until three hours after minseok had left. jongin calls baekhyun, says he and minseok had had a fight and needed to speak with him. “i haven’t heard from him.” baekhyun says, sounding apologetic. “he could be at his sister’s, but going there won’t be a good idea.”

 

“i know, but i have to see him.” jongin feels dread spread in his chest. “baekhyun, please.”

 

it takes jongin ten minutes to get minseok’s sister’s address out of him. jongin doesn’t realize his cheeks are wet until he’s in his car. he knows he has to apologize, maybe even get on his knees, say that he’ll do better, but he doubts any of that will be enough.

 

minseok’s sister’s house is an hour drive from their apartment, but jongin makes it there in thirty minutes, having broken several road laws on the way there. minseok’s car is parked outside. jongin sighs, knocks on the door, waits and knocks again.

 

his sister answers, solemn look on her face. jongin opens his mouth to speak but she beats him to it, “if you’re not happy, why not just leave him?”

 

“i can’t.” jongin croaks. “let me see him.”

 

“you told him to leave.” she throws back. “i’m taking the girls with me to my mom’s. i’ll give you both two hours before i come back. either you’re with him or you’re not. it’s your choice. man up about it.”

 

jongin’s a bit shocked, but he realizes she’s serious when minseok’s nieces trail behind her, waving his way and saying goodbye uncle! jongin watches them get in the car before shutting the door. “minseok?” he calls, voice tight. “minnie?”

 

he knew where minseok was, the spare room at the end of the hall. minseok’s sitting on the bed, his head down and shoulders dropped as he stares at his hands, twirls their matching ring on his finger. “hey.”

 

“came with salt?” minseok clips, not raising his head.

 

“no.” jongin takes a step closer but stops when minseok makes a disapproving sound. “i came to apologize. i don’t… know what to say to you. i don’t want to fight with you anymore.”

 

“that doesn’t sound like an apology.” minseok looks up at him. jongin’s surprised to see his face so puffy from crying.

 

“i love you.” jongin says. “i’m sorry. i love you and i wouldn’t trade you for anything or anyone else.”

 

“you don’t love me.” minseok shakes his head, bottom lip wobbling. “you hate me. you don’t even want to be with me.”

 

“i do want to be with you.” jongin reasons. “i just… minnie, we’re so different. but i do love you. i do. and you don’t get to tell me how i do or don’t feel. i decide that.”

 

minseok scoffs, stops playing with the wedding band and gets up. “you petulant child.”

 

“you make it so difficult…” jongin closes his eyes, wills his annoyance away. “come back home with me.”

 

“i can’t.”

 

“yes, you can.” jongin feels like a brat, even stomps his feet lightly.

 

“it wouldn’t be good for either of us. just… emotions are running high right now. i’m still…” minseok pauses, “i don’t know if i can… forgive you so quickly.”

 

“you don’t have to.” jongin rushes, “just promise me we’ll work on it. this isn’t… the end of it, is it?”

 

“i don’t know.”

 

jongin swallows, “okay.”

 

“i’m sorry.” minseok says. “tomorrow… i’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

“you’re gonna invite your ex to your birthday party?” jongin says, voice tight and eyes glassy. minseok shakes his head.

 

“you’re my husband. don’t play dumb.”

 

jongin nods, “we’re… good for now?”

 

“for now.”

 

he takes a step back and feels his chest crack under the pressure. “you’re coming back home, though, right? after tomorrow?”

 

“jongin, we have a lot to talk about still.”

 

“but you’re coming back?” jongin wants to scream. his jaw aches from clenching it so hard to keep from crying. he’s crying, anyway.

 

“yes.” minseok concedes. “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

 

it’s difficult, at minseok’s party. it’s evident that mostly everyone there knows that he and minseok are in an awkward place, so everyone walks on eggshells around him the entire night. jongin aches when he sees minseok laugh or smile. aches when it suddenly dies on his mouth when he looks at jongin.

 

he needs a drink, or maybe thirty.

 

jongin steps out onto the balcony sometime near midnight. he’s nursing a cup of half tequila gold half pineapple juice.

 

“hey.” comes minseok’s voice from behind him. jongin mumbles a reply. “it’s awkward for you, isn’t it?”

 

“a little.”

 

“i’m sorry.” minseok looks at his cup and takes it from his hands. “you’re driving.”

 

“barely took two sips.” jongin shrugs. “happy birthday, by the way.”

 

“thanks.” minseok sucks in a big breath. “my worst birthday so far, i think.”

 

jongin doesn’t want to ask, doesn’t want to know why even though it’s evident it’s because of him. “everyone’s really drunk.” he says instead.

 

“except you and me, it seems.” minseok glances over his shoulder. “jongin.”

 

“hm.”

 

minseok sighs, “jongin, baby.”

 

jongin looks over at him, eyes stinging.

 

“why are you crying?” minseok frowns, reaches out and wipes a tear before it can run down his cheek.

 

“this is your breakup speech, isn’t it?” jongin says. “on your birthday, you’ll tell your next husband how you broke up with me.”

 

“don’t be stupid.”

 

jongin covers his face with his hands, feels like an idiot for even coming to this stupid party, feels even worse for crying in front of minseok like this. “i’m not breaking up with you. jongin, hey, stop crying.”

 

“you can. you can if you want to.” jongin says quickly. “don’t stay with me just because… because i feel the way i do. i don't… deserve you. i thought of you so badly when we first got together. i thought of how i was going to leave you, but i—”

 

“shut up.” minseok cuts him off. “this isn’t a breakup speech. i’m not leaving you. stop fucking crying.” it’s ironic because minseok’s crying now, too. he wipes at jongin’s tears with his own running down his cheeks. jongin aches so badly, wants to hold him against his chest. “stop.”

 

“you first.” jongin says, wipes minseok’s face with his knuckles. “i’m sorry. i—”

 

“i know. we fight too much.” minseok says finally, brings jongin’s hand to his mouth and kisses it. “we bump heads. but we have to be adults about it now. compromise, jongin.”

 

jongin nods, apologizes again. minseok hugs him, presses a kiss under his jaw. there’s some whistles from inside. baekhyun’s on top of the coffee table pointing and cooing at them. “happy birthday. i’m sorry.”

 

“let’s go home.” minseok kisses his cheek. “try not to fight on our way there.”

 

“don’t jinx it.” jongin sniffles.

 

minseok doesn’t, knocks on wood and kisses his wedding ring for good measure.

 

jongin doesn’t get the chance to make up to him with birthday sex. by the time they get to their apartment, jongin’s too tired to even think about dick.

 

in the morning, jongin brushes his teeth before getting back into bed with minseok. he has to start getting ready for work in an hour and a half. jongin has to convince him to fuck him, says he can handle it. that it won’t be like the first time when jongin had just laid there and taken it.

 

minseok does, though. fucks him for the entire hour, doesn’t let him cum even when he starts crying and begging quietly. minseok seems to like it, smiles when jongin starts crying, voice wrecked and raw. it’s not until fifteen minutes before minseok has to leave that he lets him come, tense coil in his stomach springing free. jongin, fucked out and sore, asks minseok to cum on his face — something he’d never say to any of his past partners because he hated it. getting the smell of cum out of hair was so difficult, but it’s the afterglow of an orgasm and the lack of filter when it comes to shit like this.

 

jongin flinches when he does, warm and over his cheeks and mouth, some even gathering on his lashes. he licks his lips and blinks up at him, wants to ask if he looks pretty, but minseok gathers his cum on his fingers and feeds it into jongin’s mouth. minseok lays on top of him and kisses him, letting jongin flip them over so he’s under jongin now.

 

he presses kisses to minseok’s face, neck and chest, all while thinking and saying; _mineminemineminemineminemine_.

 


End file.
